


Ain't We Got Fun?

by markhams



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - 1920s, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:46:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1408789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markhams/pseuds/markhams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The city glitters at night and it draws her in. Maybe it shouldn’t." Gale and Madge take on the '20s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't We Got Fun?

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a prompt on tumblr for 1920s Gale/Madge and I kind of let it get away from me. Let me know if you don’t hate it, because I can’t say I’m pleased with it. This is what happens when you get too eager with a prompt, take on too many things at once, and can’t handle it all! Writing these two in the ‘20s was super fun, though, because I love that era and I got to research a bunch of old slang. Hope you enjoy-ski.

The city glitters at night and it draws her in. Maybe it shouldn’t. Her father’s always saying that she’s a good girl, and isn’t she so? She’s top of her class, daughter to the mayor, and a regular churchgoer. Why, these kinds of nights out on the town aren’t made for ladies like her. Certainly, her father wouldn’t be very happy if he knew about them. 

 

Well, Madge always did like shiny things. It’s just like that pretty pin she got from Aunt Maysilee, the one with the bird. Mother doesn’t like it when she takes it out, but she can’t help but admire the way it looks against her shortest white dress. What’s the use in getting all dolled up without a little sparkle?

 

And she’d love to show it off tonight of all nights. Johanna promised they’d be putting on the ritz with a visit to what’s being deemed as the city’s swankiest jazz club. Madge hasn’t the faintest idea how her friend plans on getting them in, but she’s up for the adventure.

 

Madge gives her reflection one last look in the mirror before she hears the loud arrival of her friend coming through the foyer. After adjusting her brand new feathered headband, then her pin, she joins Jo downstairs, her heels clicking on the marble as she descends the staircase. A long and roomy coat disguises the dress she’s got on underneath in case they encounter her father before they can get out the door.

 

“You ready, Madge?” Johanna asks, primping in front of a mirror in the hall. Oh, how Madge envies the Louise Brooks bob that Johanna pulls off so well. Madge’s length doesn’t quite meet flapper regulation, but she’s got it as short as mother would allow. “Katniss is going to meet us there. Let’s ankle!”

 

Later, they take a right turn instead of a left at Johanna’s lead and Madge gives her a strange look. “This isn’t how you get to Club DeLuxe,” she remarks, slowing her steps.

 

“Well, good thing we aren’t going to Club DeLuxe tonight, Madgie.” She grins wickedly. “How about The Hotsy Totsy?”

 

Johanna’s pace doesn’t relax, so Madge has to take quick steps to match her again. “The juice joint? Well, I…” She’s visited a handful of speakeasies before, but from what she’s heard, The Hotsy Totsy is different. It’s big. It’s loud. It’s popular.

 

“It’s the berries,” Johanna adds.

 

“It’s got quite the name—surely the bulls know about it. You know I can’t risk getting caught, Jo,” she warns, brushing past a group of tourists.

 

Her friend sighs loudly. “That old Snow fella runs the joint. He’s got all the law on his side. You don’t have to worry about a thing. Everything’s jake.”

 

Madge knows Snow, of course. And her father would be a hundred times unhappier to hear that one of his clubs is her destination tonight. Really, it’s hypocritical: her father does a lot of business with the man to keep them both out of trouble. She only knows because she’s a good sneak.

 

Katniss is waiting by the hidden entrance when they walk up. The nightlife is far from her thing, but every once in a while she’ll join them to keep them from yapping about coming out with them. Madge knows how it works. At the narrow black door down the alley, Johanna knocks four times, loud and clear. A slat in the door slides open and a buggish eye peers back at them. “Password?”

 

“Why, it’s the cat’s pajamas,” Johanna shrugs.  The slat shuts on them and a moment later, the door opens wide. They’re directed down a long dark hallway, down a set of stairs, and off to the left before they get to the good stuff.

 

Johanna looks around the bar appreciatively; Madge can only guess she’s making note of all the men she plans to kiss tonight. Katniss looks uncomfortable, turning her attentions to the boys playing their trumpets and saxophones expertly on the stage. Someone takes Madge’s coat right off her shoulders and hangs it on a rack, which prompts the realization that she is incredibly overdressed for the venue. She fidgets in the spot, hating to stand out in crowd like this. They’ll call her a sap!

 

“You’re all right, Madge,” Katniss whispers to her. She must have sensed her discomfort. The comment makes her feel a lot better, and before long, Jo tugs the both of them over to a table directly across from a man sitting alone in a fancy suit. He’s older and every few minutes, pulls an expensive timepiece out from the breast pocket of his coat. Their friend winks at them before she catches the eyes of the older man and bats her dark eyelashes at him before turning away smoothly. Madge doesn’t know how she does it, but the man turns red and in the next few minutes they have three bubbly drinks in front of them, “courtesy of the gentleman.” It takes him about two seconds to try and come over, but Johanna’s glare stops any of that.

 

“It’s all in the eyes,” she tells them sagely.

 

“You’re a vamp, you are,” Katniss replies, smiling softly. All three of them sip at their champagne at the same time and proceed to gab despite the music about the excitement they’re experiencing. At least, Johanna does. Madge agrees, but Katniss just looks like she’s in another place entirely.

 

“Katniss? What’s eating you?”

 

The girl, presumably, is about to shrug her narrow shoulders and say something about how fine she is. But before she can, she must notice something in her view that catches her attention. A slow smile creeps on to her face, one Madge has never quite seen before, and both Johanna and Madge turn their heads to find the source of her distraction.

 

Jo hums approvingly. “My, my.”

 

“Catnip? That you?” The man in question approaches the tape with a smile almost identical to the one on Katniss’ face. They’ve got the same appearance, even: dark hair, olive skin, and similar features. She knows Katniss has beautifully unique grey eyes and she wonders if he does, too.

 

Madge has never seen him before, but she assumes he must be part of Katniss’ family. Katniss stands to greet him and he quickly envelopes her in a hug in which his tall and built stature wraps tightly around her comparatively small and lithe one.

 

“I don’t believe it,” he says, pulling back from her and looking her over like one does when it’s been a long time. “Little Catnip’s in a speakeasy and”—he looks briefly at the table, raising an eyebrow—“and on her way to getting rightly ossified. How long _has_ it been?”

 

Katniss knocks one into his shoulder and the two of them laugh. Madge and Johanna watch interestedly. It’s not common to see their friend interact with the male specimen—and so closely.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asks him, more serious again, and he seems to give her a helpless look.

 

“Work,” is his short response. Katniss stays meaningfully quiet, and in that moment her friend—cousin—whatever glances over her head at the table again. Perhaps Madge had been watching a little too closely, because his gaze meets hers. “Who are your friends?” She notes that it is not said in the kindest of ways before Katniss swivels around and introduces them.

 

“Madge. Jo.” Madge offers a small wave while Johanna employs full usage of ‘the eyes.’ Katniss gestures to the man at her side. “I grew up with Gale—we were neighbours—it’s been, gosh, about ten years.”

 

“Well, _Catnip_ , it’s posi-tute-ly wonderful that you ran into him again,” Johanna grins cheekily. She stands from the table and offers a hand to Katniss’ old friend. When he takes it she tugs him closer, causing him to stumble forward. Johanna’s voice lowers. “ _Gale_ , did she say? Lovely to meet you.”

 

His eyes narrow on her, mostly out of what seems to be hesitation. He’s trying to figure out how to react. Katniss is oblivious to the whole thing; she’s too wrapped up in giving Gale a funny kind of look. She seems conflicted, and Madge has no idea about any of that, so she doesn’t intend on asking about it.

 

“Sure,” Gale replies, nodding lightly. “You too.”

 

“D’you dance, Gale?” Johanna prods. She nods over to the dancefloor where the flappers and their boys move to the music.

 

“Not on the job,” he replies. Johanna doesn’t look to be giving up, but his eyes flicker towards her again and then land back on Katniss. “And on that note, I should be getting back. Gotta speak with the boss.” Katniss gives him a wary look—all looks, this girl—while he straightens tie as if preparing to conduct business. Well, Madge thinks, that’s probably exactly what he’s doing. “Won’t be long—in the mean time, tell Bristel over there that Hawthorne sent you and he’ll set you up real nice.”

 

His hand wraps around her shoulder quickly and warmly before he disappears into the crowd and Katniss watches him go.

 

“ _Catnip_ ,” Johanna laughs, “You’ve got to explain.”

 

They both sit back down and Katniss shakes her head. “Childhood nickname,” she sighs. “The rest will have to wait.”

 

It’s a little cryptic. Johanna moans desperately while Madge grabs at her drink. “Does he… He works for Snow?” she asks quietly.

 

Katniss pauses before she replies. She looks disconcerted, though it’s clear the answer is yes. “He’s not a bad person,” she says.

 

In the next moment, some fellow—obviously drunk—wobbles over to them and places his hands flat on the tabletop. It shakes and their drinks splash over the sides of their glasses. “Ladies! Ladies! What’s with the frowns?”

 

Katniss looks unimpressed; Johanna chuckles at the sight. Madge finds it amusing, but she worries that the champagne has gotten on to her white dress. She can’t tell in the dark, but she’ll have to wait to check by a light. Besides, the man is decidedly distracting. Not only is he loud, he’s terribly attractive in that universal sort of way. He’s got the kind of beauty that would have anyone in awe.

 

“Come on now,” he continues, “The jazz is hot, the booze is flowing… What could girls as pretty as you have to be sad about?”

 

Charming, too, Madge notes. His smile practically twinkles and she can tell Johanna is thoroughly amused. Another boy joins them, latching on to their first visitor’s shoulders and pulling him back. “Finnick, what are you—come on, man,” he laughs. “I apologize, ladies. He’s had quite a bit to drink.”

 

This one has lighter hair, parted at the side and swept back smoothly. He’s just as dashing as his friend; he looks how she imagines a boyish Gatsby might from that Fitzgerald book she read last year.

 

“He’s not bothering us at all,” Johanna pipes up. She’s certainly enjoying the attention and the excitement of it all. “In fact, I want what he’s been drinking.”

 

‘Finnick’, so it appears his name is, hollers at that. “Well, let’s get you some, why don’t we?”

 

His friend tugs at his arm again as he helps Johanna out of her seat. Finnick ignores whatever the blonde boy has to whisper to him and tucks Jo into his side before escorting her off to the bar, presumably.

 

“I’m so sorry, again, really,” his friend sighs. His gaze locks on Katniss who stares blankly back at him. “Oh, I should—” He scrambles to reach a hand out to her. “I’m Peeta. That fool was Finnick.”

 

She shakes his hand just briefly before pulling abruptly away. “Is my friend going to be okay?” Katniss asks, and it’s intimidating even to Madge.

 

“Oh, Finnick is a fine fellow,” Peeta shakes his head. “I’d be more worried about his girl Glimmer if I were you. She’s a handful.”

 

Katniss looks angry at that—Madge would bet she’s about to rant to this stranger about giving some _notice_ next time if their friend is about to go off with another girl’s man—but he blushes and says, “I didn’t catch your name,” so innocently before she can. The attraction is clearly there and Madge suddenly wonders if she’s invisible. Peeta hasn’t even blinked her way, though not out of unkindness, surely—he’s just found great delight in looking at her friend.

 

“Katniss,” Madge provides, considering it didn’t seem like Katniss was. “Her name is Katniss.”

 

Her friend glares at her but Madge shrugs. She’s helping her out, really. Peeta seems like a nice man and it wouldn’t hurt Katniss to enjoy herself. Besides, she wants to go check on the state of her dress and she couldn’t leave Katniss here all alone, could she?

 

“Oh,” he nods. He politely turns to her and gives her his hand. “And you are?”

 

Madge takes it and uses the gesture to help her up from her seat. “ _I’m_ going to be right back, but you should sit, Peeta, and entertain my friend here.” He gives her a wink—a _thank you_ —and trades places with her, sliding into her chair once she starts to take off. She doesn’t miss the way Katniss pleads with her to come back, but she pretends she does. She’s not going to let her friend get hurt; she _will_ be back to check on her, but she has the feeling that she’ll be all right.

 

So Madge weaves her way through the crowd in search of a lit hallway or something of the sort. On her way she spots Johanna and Finnick at the bar, knocking back whatever hooch they can get their hands on. So far she wouldn’t say she’s having that level of fun, or much fun at all, really. All she has to show for The Hotsy Totsy is a potentially stained dress.

 

There’s a door off to the side of the bar that looks to go mostly unnoticed. Making sure that she goes the same, she slips inside. All it leads to is a steep staircase going up and down, but there’s a light flickering above that will get the job done. She leans against the rail at the steps and starts to examine the damage done to her dress when a door from the top of the stairs opens and closes. Two sets of footsteps descend the stairs and the low voices belonging to them converse about something or the other. It must stop when they spot her at the bottom, because as they get closer it gets quieter.

 

“Hey! What d’you think you’re doing in here?” One of them sounds real miffed, so Madge turns around and comes face to face with two very tall and very strong looking men—one of which happens to be Gale, Katniss’ old friend. He squints at her while the other man yammers on. “The door says _Staff Only_ , miss. What’re you tryin’ to do? You could be in big trouble, lady.”

 

Gale stops the other man from pushing forward on the steps towards her and grunts, “I’ll deal with her, Marv. You go finish that business with Coin’s men.” When ‘Marv’ knocks past Gale on the stairs and sneers at her as he leaves, Madge backs towards the door as well.

 

“I had no idea,” she breathes.

 

Gale comes down the rest of the steps and starts rolling the sleeves of his button-down up to his elbows. Madge starts to put two-and-two together: this guy works for Snow, the city’s most powerful mob boss, and she just tread on some of his private ground, apparently. Now he’s going to kill he while keeping his shirt sleeves clean.

 

Dear Lord, help her.

 

“You oughta be careful,” he warns. “Katniss wouldn’t be very happy with me if I had to hurt one of her new friends.”

 

“You’d do that?” Madge wonders why her knees aren’t knocking together, but she has a hard time believing a man that grew up with Katniss wouldn’t have any qualms about roughing up a young girl. The man in front of her is certainly intimidating—looking the part of a tough guy—but the way he acted around Katniss earlier tells Madge that he’s not the type to do so.

 

Gale crosses his arms and glances up the stairs at the darkened door he came out of. When he looks back at her, she can tell she’s caught his bluff. “Is Katniss still here?”

 

“She is,” Madge replies. She relaxes from the tension she felt from getting in trouble, but a new irritation churns inside of her. She doesn’t want to acknowledge it. It’s just that tonight has been so unsatisfying that she feels herself powerless to stop herself from saying, “I’m not just Katniss’ friend… or Johanna’s friend. I’m Madge,” as he turns away.

 

Facing her again, the man raises his eyebrows at her. “I know who you are.” It sounds like: _You think I wouldn’t?_

 

“You do?” she asks, surprised.

 

“Madge Undersee. You’re the mayor’s daughter,” he explains with a scoff. His voice drops to a steely whisper. “You think I don’t know all about your family? I work for the guy up those stairs. I’ve been there when your father’s made deals with him, deals that only serve—”

 

Gale stops himself, his jaw clenching and his eyes stormy. She glances down at his hands and finds them in tight fists. She feels small, small enough for those fists to crush her. It’s only because she knows that her father hasn’t always done the right thing, but that doesn’t give _him_ the right to judge.

 

“You must be perfect,” she scowls. Her mother would berate her for being so rude, but she doesn’t care much what her mother thinks, anyway. “Didn’t you just say that you work for _him_? What good are you?”

 

The air is thick and she wonders how they managed to get to this point. What an awful, terrible night.

 

After a long breath, Gale nods, glancing down at her form quickly. “Pretty dress,” he says. It throws her off guard. Gale takes slow steps towards her, hovering on the edges of her personal space. “Pretty pin, too.” He flicks at it where the accessory sits on her dress. He’s too close for comfort; her chest is heaving and she hopes he doesn’t notice. But his eyes are locked on the jewelry and from where it’s pinned next to her low collar she’s sure he can. “It’s a mockingbird, isn’t it?”

 

She swallows and nods firmly at his question. The pin is a mockingbird, a family heirloom. Having initially thought she was going to a legitimate jazz club—not this underground joint—wearing it hadn’t posed a problem. Now, she realizes, it does. The mockingbird symbolizes community and family; when her great-grandfather got into politics years before, he alluded to the mockingbird in reference to the gangs ravaging the city due to their differences. People needed to think like mockingbirds do: listen first and speak only after you’ve listened. It became an icon and his administration did much to clean up the city. But things have found themselves where they started—with Snow at the helm of that.

 

Surely, he would oppose the mockingbird and all it stands for. After all, this business is how he makes his money, how he gets his power.

 

Gale’s eyes slowly meet hers and they don’t convey the same amount of disdain that they had before. Instead, he looks like he’s trying to decide exactly what she’s worth. Madge has had enough. She can’t keep up with his attitude and it frustrates her. Anyway, she’s not sure where he stands in the middle of all this—will he report back to Snow? Is he trying to tell her something?

 

“I’m glad you like it,” she says softly, sarcastically. “I’d like to return to the party now, if you don’t mind.”

 

Gale doesn’t move so she’s forced to slip past him. It’s a relief to leave the room and enter the club space again, where the air is much foggier with sweat but it’s easier to breathe.

 

Madge heads back to their table to take a peek on whatever progress Peeta is making with Katniss; she hopes things didn’t go too badly as the quick check on her dress ended up taking longer than planned thanks to Gale’s intervention. The club is filled to the brim with life now and she can’t take two steps without bumping into another body. The musicians on stage are playing their very best and the crowd loves it. The bar is lined with girls and boys desperately trying to get their hands on what’s prohibited. The bartenders are eager to give it to them—for a hefty price. It’s so packed that Madge can’t make out Finnick and Johanna’s heads anymore and she’d be worried if she didn’t think Jo could handle herself. She has extensive experience in dealing with angry girlfriends…

 

Once she’s in eyesight of the table she has to smirk at what she finds: Peeta with his arm across the back of Katniss’ chair, that which is situated quite close to his own. Katniss sits facing him—her legs pointed in the direction of his, in a tell-tale sign of body language—as she seems to speak to him shyly. Peeta must be a magician. It looks like their conversation could escalate to flirtation in a matter of minutes and Madge is glad to let them have the moment to themselves, but she notes to herself first how beautiful they look together.

 

Someone suddenly takes hold of her arm and she startles; when she looks over she finds her previous conversation partner uncomfortably looking back at her.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I just want to find Catnip. Where is she?”

 

She sighs and points to the table, but to her shock and horror Gale starts to move that way. “Wait! No, look, she’s with a _boy_.”

 

Gale shrugs. “I don’t understand.”

 

“Katniss doesn’t… This is new, and they look so lovely like that,” she explains sheepishly.

 

Gale isn’t so romantic. He groans, “Oh, for crying out loud!” and stomps on over. Madge huffs and watches as he disrupts the happy couple and sends Peeta packing. The guy takes it all too politely, giving Katniss a smile and delivering a nod Gale’s way. When he steps away, looking  distraught, Madge approaches him.

 

“There, there,” she consoles. “I hear they’re just old friends… I think you’ve got as much of a shot with my friend as one can.”

 

Peeta grins at that. “You think so, doll?”

 

Madge nods and leans closer in order to whisper, “Between you and me, there’s something you should know. Our dear Katniss likes to spend her Sunday mornings at the park, and, well, she’ll never turn down a meal.”

 

Peeta looks like he’s about to burst and he takes Madge’s hands in his excitedly. “The bee’s knees, that’s what you are,” he grins. “How about a dance for the lady? You’ve got me too darn excited to sit down now, miss Madge.”

 

She laughs delightfully. “You flatter me,” she shakes her head, “but we wouldn’t want to make Katniss jealous. She’d get the wrong idea, you see.”

 

He nods, considering the truth in that. Then he asks if he can be of any service, but Madge waves him off and tells him to let her know if she sees her friend Johanna at all, to which he definitely agrees. They split ways and Madge walks around the dance floor to see if she can spot her friend. There’s no use doing. It’s all bobbing heads and swinging elbows and hopping feet. Before long she’s pulled into it and there’s a statuesque blonde fellow asking her to dance. Well, she can’t refuse.

 

“Having a good night, baby?” he asks, shouting over the music.

 

She shrugs and smiles back at him. “We’ll see!”

 

His long arms reach out and pull her closer, which is not something she was prepared for. Her wide eyes land on him, now much closer to notice just how drunk he must be, judging by the darkness of his eyes. “You’ll have a good night with me,” he leers. “What’s your name?”

 

Her hands come up on his chest to put some space between them, but he only holds her tighter. “Gosh, I just remembered: my friend must be wondering where I am…”

 

“She can wait, can’t she? I thought we were having a dance.”

 

“We are,” she nods. She’s highly uncomfortable, really. “But I’ve got to find my friend, you understand.” The man snarls, rejecting the assumption that he would, and tugs her closer—forcefully. Madge pulls back just as hard. She grinds through her teeth. “Listen, if you don’t let me go, well, I’ll scream so loud that they’ll kick you out. But I’ll kick you where it hurts before they can do that, rest assured.”

 

The large man glares at her briefly before he releases her roughly. She palms the place on her arm where he had been gripping her, leaving red finger-shaped marks. Her angry eyes watch him slip away into the crowd as he mumbles something rude about her, surely, and she sighs with relief once he’s gone. No more dancing for her. Instead, she trudges away from those swinging with their partners and makes her way back to their table. Or perhaps it’s not _their_ table because once it’s in sight she finds that it’s been claimed by a bunch of sad looking girls. Maybe Madge should join them anyway; she’d certainly fit in. All she wants to do now is find Katniss and Johanna and get out of there.

 

“Looking for Catnip?” a gruff voice asks from behind her. She turns around—ah, who else would it be?

 

“What’d you do with her?” Madge accuses. Gale was the last one she was speaking with Katniss and now here’s Gale but no Katniss. How far could she have gone?

 

“Absolutely nothing,” he returns, squaring his shoulders. “She took off to find you and your friend. I told her you three shouldn’t hang around places like this—what happened to you?”

 

He scrutinizes her appearance, which must look a little rough with the shaken look on her face and the bruises starting to appear on her arm. “Just got a little jostled in there,” she says through a smile she pastes on. He doesn’t seem to buy it, but she doesn’t care. “Well, where’d she go?”

 

“Katniss?” he asks, seemingly distracted by something. He keeps looking up at the ceiling and he freezes when he does. Gale looks suddenly on edge and it starts to worry her. She nudges him and he looks to her before training his eyes—and ears—on something above. “How am I supposed to know?”

 

Madge groans. “You’re useless!”

 

He’s much too interested in whatever has his attention and even though just what that is gives her concern, she’d rather get to finding her friends. So Madge pushes past him in a huff and aims herself in the direction of the bar. But before she can get very far, there’s a loud bang and a chorus of fearful screams following it. In that instant everybody in the place is moving, desperately. Madge feels suffocated while the shrill screaming continues and she can’t seem to think. It’s all happening too fast and her heart is pounding too hard for her to focus on anything else.

 

She’s whipped around by someone grabbing on to her wrist and dragging her with them in the opposite direction that everybody seems to be heading. Bodies pummel into her, knocking into her shoulders and elbows and stepping on her feet. She has to wonder if this is the best idea. Madge blinks, coming back to full consciousness, and she tries to make out who it is that’s dragging her through the stampede. There’s broad shoulders and a head of dark hair. The realization has her pulling back and using all of her strength to keep him from going.

 

He must notice a moment later because he stops and whirls around only to be pushed in by the crowd, knocking into her. “What are you doing?” he yells angrily.

 

God knows what _he’s_ doing! He’s probably going to throw her in the direction of the commotion.

 

“Bum’s rush,” he explains quickly and she gasps. The cops are here. “We have to get out of here. Unless you wanna get pinched?”

 

She shakes her head. Truthfully, he could still go ahead and hand her over to the cops and she’s not sure that he won’t… But he would also know all the best ways of getting out of this joint and fast, so he’s her best choice.

 

“Katniss and Johanna,” Madge yelps.

 

Gale starts tugging her again. “They’ll be okay.”

 

They’re the toughest girls she knows, so she believes it, because there’s nothing she can do now. Looking for them would be absolutely pointless. Unfortunately that doesn’t relieve the worry she feels over their whereabouts, but she can’t stop to think about it when there’s this all going on.

 

The next thing she knows, she and Gale have reached a clearing and he pulls her into a door that she hadn’t noticed before. It leads to a long corridor, narrow and dark with concrete walls. As soon as she is dragged inside she notes how stuffy it is and hopes they aren’t in here for long. Gale has to duck his head to fit as they run down the hall so it mustn’t be very comfortable for him either. She knows better than to say anything.

 

As they reach the end of the hall the door they came through slams open and there’s a loud “Hey!” being called out to them. Glancing back Madge can see it’s a cop and she gasps the news to Gale, who doesn’t attempt to check for himself and only runs faster.

 

Their next move is a turn to the right that eventually ends at another door. The two of them blast through it and Madge is unprepared for the set of stairs that comes after it and she trips down the first two steps, nearly sending them both down in a tumbling heap. But they reach the bottom without incident and get a handful of steps away from it when they hear the door open and a terrible sound—like that of a man falling down a steep staircase. When she glances back again, well…

 

Gale leads them through two more doors and up a couple more flights of stairs before they end up at a door that apparently leads them directly out onto the dark streets of the city. She hasn’t quite got her bearings and can’t say where they are or how they got there—what a maze!—but she’s happy to be where there’s fresh air.

 

There’s barely enough time to catch her breath, though, because there are officers lingering nearby, probably waiting for people on the run like they are. After flying out onto the street, some cops across the street notice them and Gale gets going again. Madge tries to see if they’re being chased, but cars passing by on the road make it difficult for the police men to cross the street and it gives her and Gale enough time to lose them.

 

When she turns her head back to what’s in front of her she’s surprised when Gale takes a hard right and she’s suddenly directed down another alleyway. In her cute little heels, her feet are protesting against all of this running around. Her lungs aren’t too happy with her, either. She’s wondering just how far they need to go when Gale comes to an abrupt stop at the other end of the alley where it comes out on to another street. Madge takes the opportunity to breathe in all the air that she can before he forces her to move again.

 

But Gale doesn’t move just yet. He pushes her back against the wall of the old building (which she _tries_ not to gripe over—but oh, her poor dress…) and sticks close to her side. Very close. The right side of his body brushes against her left, and she’s thankful for the strange feeling of security she gets from being like this. She’s still not sure what to think of Gale, but he’s certainly being protective now—and helping her out. Besides, in this quiet momentary pause, the light from the street makes a silhouette out of his impressive physique and well…

 

Gale flattens himself against the wall unexpectedly, which causes Madge to do the same. In the next couple of seconds, a policeman trots by their alleyway. Madge holds her breath and squeeze Gale’s hand, realizing only then that she was still hanging on to him. She waits for him to pull away; he doesn’t.

 

Instead he focuses on checking around the corner again and it seems to her that he must believe they’re in the clear because he takes a deep breath and stands in front of her with a grin on his face.

 

Madge doesn’t know what to say, so she just smiles, too.

 

At least until Gale drops the look from his face and shakes his head at her. His hand slips from hers. “See why you three can’t hang around there anymore?”

 

“Well, I’m all right, aren’t I?” Madge counters. As far as she can see she’s in one piece. He must think otherwise; he pulls at her headband and swipes at her hair to fix their disorder, presumably.

 

“Thanks to yours truly,” Gale sniffs as he drops his hands again. “What if I hadn’t been there?”

 

Madge is confused. “I don’t know why you care.” She moves towards the street but his body stays where it is—in the way of hers.

 

“I _don’t_ ,” he grumbles.

 

“Then what’s the issue?” Madge presses.

 

“There is no issue.”

 

Madge laughs at that, as confused and uncomfortable as she is. “Swell,” she says, unsurely, after a moment. “We should find my friends. I want to make sure they’re all right, too.” He nods and they both slip on to the street, walking back in the direction they came from but using a different route.

 

Stepping along side him, Madge glances at Gale from the corner of her eye and shakes her head. “You sure are screwy, mister.”

 

He clenches his jaw and chooses not to look back at her. Instead he keeps his eyes on the sidewalk. “Maybe I am, but I’ve got a lot on my mind, all right?” He takes a moment to look at her. “What have you? Your problems are probably limited to the length of your skirt or your hair, flapper girl.”

 

His assumptions are highly irritating, but she snickers lightly. Is that what he thinks?

 

“You think they’re problematic?” she questions cheekily. “I happen to think my skirt and my hair are just fine.”

 

He glances down at her legs and quickly away, leaving Madge to blush just slightly. “Maybe not to you, but with your gams on display like that…” he murmurs. She turns red. Gale shakes his head and returns to his enduringly serious state. “Forget the trends, Undersee, you should be more concerned with your father.”

 

This piques her interest and she narrows her eyes at him. “What’s that mean?”

 

He looks around shiftily before casually wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tucking her into his side. They must look like any other couple walking the streets, a boy keeping his girl warm. But his voice drops low and he holds her so closely that she can feel the vibrations of his low tone on her shoulder and his breath just above her ear.

 

“Snow wants to take him down,” Gale discloses. “He doesn’t want to make deals anymore—he wants to run the city.”

 

Shivers crawl down her spine. If he’s telling the truth…

 

“Why are you telling me this?” she gasps, feeling out of breath from it all. He doesn’t speak right away and she turns to look at him. She wonders what he’s thinking. The look on his face tells her that there’s something more to Gale Hawthorne, something beyond the tough guy working for the city’s criminal ringleader.

 

“Because we need to stop him,” he says.

 

She can barely concentrate on the matter at hand, too confused by everything he’s saying. Madge barely coughs out a “ _We?”_ as they turn a corner and his hand slips down to the small of her back.

 

“You need to help us, Madge. If your father’s our last hope, everything else is riding on _you_.”

 

“ _Us_?” she asks, a little more forcefully. He pinches her hip and she yelps even though she knows he means for her to be quiet. In return, she elbows him in the ribs for pinching her; the look on her face ( _not_ impressed) is probably what causes him to laugh.

 

Shaking his head at her, he mutters, “You’re feisty, ain’t ya?”

 

“Don’t pinch me and you’ll be fine, darling,” Madge counters.

 

Gale scoffs at that. “Don’t call me darling and I won’t have to pinch you again, doll.”

 

“All right, all right,” she sighs, resisting the urge to smile. The worry in her gut is still making her nauseous and she can’t ignore it to _banter_ with him. “What do you need from me, Gale?”

 

They stop on the sidewalk and she stands in front of him to face him. He ducks his head so he can lower his voice again while he stuffs his hands into the pockets at his waist. To anyone walking by, they should just look like a guy trying to sweet-talk a gal. And since she’s about ready to faint with news like this, it might look like he’s succeeding.

 

“Work with us,” he says. “The mockingbirds.”

 

Did she have too much to drink? Certainly not, but she wonders how any of this is really happening right now. “But you work for Snow…”

 

“I work against him. I’m on your side.” Gale shifts his eyes around protectively, but looks back to her. “Well?”

 

She begins to reject his request. “I don’t know…”

 

“Trust me, I don’t want this anymore than you do,” he growls, apparently returning to his grumpy self. The mood swings on this guy! “How can we trust a silly little thing like you?”

 

The worry in her gut flares into anger, which is turning out to be a common occurrence around him with the things he says. But before she can scream at him about it, he continues with a long, uncomfortable sigh.

 

“But—on the level—we need you… and I hate to say it.”

 

As rude as he is, the rest of what he has to say strikes her. _She’s never been needed before_. And this? This is a good reason to be needed.

 

“Madge? Oh, Madge!” The sound of her name being called comes from across the street, and when she looks over, she’s met with the sight of a flailing Johanna, a less exuberant—but still pleased—Katniss, and their newfound friends, Finnick and Peeta.

 

“We found you!” screams Jo.

 

The group hobbles towards her, all looking worse for wear—about as bad as she does, she’s sure. Johanna has clearly had far too much to drink and while Finnick looks as attractive as he had earlier, it’s obvious from the dazed look in his eyes that he’s had a whirlwind of a night. Katniss looks exhausted and annoyed by the whole situation. The only one who looks a-okay is Peeta, who seems to be sitting on top of the world just by being in Katniss’ presence.

 

“There you are!” Madge giggles and wraps her arms around Johanna when she rams into her. When Jo backs off she catches Gale’s eyes and notes the seriousness that still emanates from their previous chat. Katniss grins at Gale and slaps his shoulder which seems to loosen him up.

 

“What’s going on here?” she asks curiously (and if Madge is correct, somewhat unsurely, too).

 

“Yeah,” Johanna hiccups. “How’d you end up with Gorgeous Gale here?”

 

Gale blushes from the nickname and Madge does too, even though they hadn’t gotten up to anything blush-worthy. The assumption alone is enough.

 

“There’s nothing at all _going on_ ,” Madge brushes them off, glancing casually at Gale. “He helped me out is all.”

 

“So you can tell the mayor I kept his little girl safe,” Gale nods at her, sounding grouchy. She’s had about enough of him—but she also knows what he’s getting at.

 

Sighing, she turns to him. “I should thank you, Gale,” she says, performing a role, and walks nearer. “You _saved_ me!” She leaps toward him and circles her arms around his neck. He stumbles backward but lucky for her, he’s quick enough to catch himself and to catch her by grabbing around her waist. It pains her to exaggerate like so—but it may be the only way she can get close enough to say, “I’ll do it, I’ll do what I can,” right into his ear.

 

He makes a sound of acknowledgment in hers and lowers her to the ground, making a show of brushing her off of him. “You should go home. Wouldn’t want to worry father, would we?” He looks at the rest of the group and nods to them. “That goes for all of you.”

 

“Gorgeous Gale is a bit of a grump,” Johanna says under her breath. It causes Madge to smirk while Gale takes to glaring at her.

 

“All right, ladies and gents, shall we?” Madge prompts, sliding her arm into Katniss’ after she’s done hugging Gale, too.

 

“Goodbye, Gale,” Madge says over her shoulder when the bunch begins to head down the street back toward home. There’s a twist in her stomach as she considers what she’s gotten herself into, but along with it comes excitement over what’s to come. That, she can’t explain.

 

“Good night, flapper girl,” comes his response, and when she looks over her shoulder a few steps away, he’s still standing there alone, watching them leave.

 

 


End file.
